


Baths and Bad Memories

by Kaijuscientists



Series: Fictober 2019 [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bathing/Washing, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hair Washing, M/M, No Smut, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 01:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaijuscientists/pseuds/Kaijuscientists
Summary: When Crowley mentions he wants to take a bath, the only thing Aziraphale can think of is the holy water bath in hell.





	Baths and Bad Memories

“I was thinkin’” Crowleys says, slouched low in an arm chairs, where he has been tapping away on his phone all afternoon. “Might take a bath later.”

“W-what?” Aziraphale says, looking at Crowey over his reading glasses, eyes wide. 

“A bath, angel,” Crowley says, brows raising. “Got a shed comin.”

“A shed?”

“Snake, snakes shed their skin sometimes.”

“Right, I suppose they do.” Aziraphale says, though didn’t know that rule applied to snake of demonic nature. “Dear, why not just take a shower.”

“Shower? Take a shower he says.” Crowley grumbles.

“That will be just as nice, don’t you think?”

“Honestly, Aziraphale, I’m surprised someone as indulgent as you doesn’t want me to take a bath.” Crowley says. “I know you’ve got a stash of bath bombs somewhere. It’ll be decadent, bubbles and oils, all hot and steamy.” He wiggles happily in his spot just thinking about it, but he’d never admit to it. 

“Crowley... it’s just,” Azirphale stops to take a breath that ends up much shakier then he wanted it to be. “I know I laughed… we joked about it afterward, but when you mention a bath. Well, all I can imagine is you getting into a tub, filled to the brim with holy water.”

“Angel.” He says so softly, he hadn’t known just how much his trial had affected his angel. “Your bath upstairs isn’t going to be filled with holy water. That’d be a nasty trick if it was.”

“Crowley don’t even joke about that.“ he says looking aghast and pale as a ghost.

“Sorry, sorry.” He says, sitting up in his chair. “‘Sides, you don’t have a shower, just a tub” he says, one finger pointing upstairs. 

“I could have one, though.” He offers so quickly and confidently, Crowley’s sure that if he went up, right now, he would find one of those shower only situations in the bathroom. 

“I just really want a proper soak, angel. S’nice sometimes, and it helps with the shed.”

Aziraphale finally sets his book down, fingers pressing to the bridge of his nose. He’s well aware he’s letting anxiety get the best of him but he doesn’t know how else to explain it. What if his tub, by the nature of it being in his home, does in fact fill with holy water?

Granted that’s not at all how holy water works, but Aziraphale’s anxious mind won’t tell him that. 

“I would go back to my flat, if you’d rather i don’t do it here.” He offers, startling Aziraphale from his mind wandering down paths that would lead to his plumbing supplying holy water. 

“No! No, I’d really rather you didn’t.” Aziraphale stammers, worrying the ring on his pinky, anxiety twisting his stomach. “I’d just worry anyway.” 

“What if you came with me?”

“To your flat?”

“No, into the bath.” Crowley says, gesturing like he just had the best idea ever. “Could make sure the water is not holy, then I’d be safe, and you wouldn’t have to worry!”

“I don’t know, dear, that seems quite inappropriate…”

“Angel, we’ve literally been naked, together, many times now.” Crowley says, deadpan. “We can make a better memory for you to keep, instead of that nasty business from downstairs.” he adds, waggling his eyebrows for effect.

\-----------------

Aziraphale reluctantly agrees to Crowley’s suggestion and is banished to the first floor of the shop while said demon prepares their bath. 

“Angel, come take a look!”

He climbs the stairs and peaks his head in the door. 

“Wow… you’ve been very busy up here.” He says stepping in to the small room. There are candles lit all around, several of his bath bombs and melts sit on the edge of the tub. The tub (bigger than he remembered it being) is full of steaming hot water, and he inhales, the room smells of lavender. He’s sure it’s not a coincidence that it helps calm his nerves. 

“You like it?” Crowley asks, uncertainty coloring his voice. 

“It’s lovely, dear.” 

“C’mere.” He takes Aziraphale’s hand, pulling him close and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, he eases Aziraphale’s coat from his shoulders, a flick of his wrist sees it neatly folded in their bedroom. He makes quick work of the buttons on Aziraphale’s vest, pushing it from his shoulders as well, disappearing to join it’s friend before it hits the floor.

Aziraphale wastes no time, grabbing hold of Crowley’s ridiculous tie and pulling him down into a quick kiss, lifting it over the demon’s head and tossing it behind him while making direct eye contact.

“Rude,” Crowley says with a chuckle, sweeping down to kiss down Aziraphales neck, untucking his shirt, Aziraphale rucking Crowley’s up at the same time, a happy little hum escaping him when he pushes his hands underneath. 

Taking advantage of his distraction, he sneakily snags Aziraphale’s bow tie, dropping it to the floor.

“Oh, I’m the rude one.” Aziraphale replies, breathlessly.

“You started it.” 

Eventually, they have each other undressed, kisses and soft touches passed between them like secrets. 

“After you, angel.” Crowley says, holding Aziraphale’s hand while he steps into the tub, settling down in to the still steaming water. “Comfy?”

“Very, it’s the perfect temperature.” He leans against the back of the tub, sinking even further into the water. 

“Does it feel holy?”

“Holy, no,” He sweeps his hands through the water, watching the pale purple from the bath bomb Crowley has dropped in swirl in the currents. “I’d maybe say heavenly.”

“Join me,” he asks, before he has time to start over thinking again, holding out a hand to help Crowley into the tub. 

To his own surprise, he’s fine as Crowley steps in, he doesn’t even flinch when he makes contact with the water. Crowley sighs deeply, a sound of utter bliss escaping his chest as he settles across from Aziraphale, their legs slotting together. 

It’s funny, Aziraphale can’t remember his tub ever being big enough for two grown adult beings. 

Aziraphale watches fondly as Crowley relaxes, eyes closed, completely at ease and unguarded. He’s still not used to seeing him being so openly vulnerable but he’s so lucky, blessed even that Crowley trusts him with it. 

“That doesn’t look very comfortable” Aziraphale says, the demons knees bent and sticking out of the water as his head leans back against the lip of the tub. 

“M’fine”

“Why don’t you come over here, I’ll wash your hair.” 

Crowley cracks an eye open at that, one eyebrow quirked, he’s only ever fantasized about this moment for centuries. 

Aziraphale smiles brightly, beckoning him over. He languidly turns, backing into the space between Aziraphale thighs. The angel cups waters between his hands and wets his hair, water trickling over his face. 

Aziraphale grabs his own shampoo, lathers it’s into Crowley’s hair, his nails scratching along his scalp. He unconsciously leans back, just a little letting him support his head, as Aziraphale starts to massage, fingers rubbing steady circles behind his temples.

“Oh angel,” he nearly moans, reality was so much better than any fantasy he has ever had. “Your fingers never cease to amaze me.”

Aziraphale smiles to himself, equal parts fond and smug. He knows what his demon likes, even if he won’t ask for it outright.

Once he’s rinsed, Crowley reclines back against Aziraphales chest, head resting on his shoulder, thighs on either side. “You were right, this is much more comfortable.” he sighs happily, hands resting on Aziraphale’s knees. 

“I didn’t even know you shed before today.“ Aziraphale says honestly, using a hand to gently slosh handfuls of water over Crowley’s chest. “When will it happen?”

“Might be next week, sometime soon though.” He replies, he feels boneless, floating weightless in the bath, supported by Aziraphale on all sides. 

“Does it happen often?”

“Once every few hundred years maybe.”

He’s shocked at that revelation. It’s fairly often given the length of their lives. he wonders how had he not noticed before. 

“You’ve never been around here for one.”

“I’m generally not around anyone for them, Angel.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says, not bothering to hide the sadness in his voice. Not when Crowley’s probably planning to go off soon, to be alone for who knows how long. 

“It’s a, um, Very vulnerable time.”

“Where will you go?” Aziraphale winds his arms around Crowley, holding him tightly. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you would prefer not too, but with the state of things, as it were, I’d like to know where you plan on being, if anything were to happen…”

“Aziraphale.” Crowley cuts his rambling off, his hands coming up to grip Aziraphale’s forearms. “I’d like,” he starts, then stops, hates that it’s so hard to ask for things he wants. 

“I want to, um, notbealone.” Crowley manages to say, mostly coherently. “Unless you’d be uncomfortable. I’ll have to be I a less savory form.” He had not taken his snake form in front of Aziraphale since Eden. In fact he avoided it, most of the time only taking the form when he absolutely had to for a shed. He always had a fear that he’d forget how to change back. 

“Dear, you know I’m not uncomfortable with any of your forms.” Aziraphale squeezes the demon in his arms, fondness washing over him as he presses a kiss to Crowley temple. “I love you, however you look.”

“You’ve only seen it once, and it wasn’t for very long.”

“But it’s still you, more scales and less limbs, still Crowley.”

Crowley doesn’t say anything for a while, he’s still not over the fact that an Angel if god could love him. And say it so plainly. 

“You mean it?” He chances a glance up at Aziraphale, and he forgets to breath for a moment, the fondness plain in Aziraphale’s face hitting him squarely in the chest. 

“Of course, dear.” he places a kiss on Crowley’s forehead, a little breathless giggle escaping Crowley without his permission. “Thank you for trusting me with this” 

“If there’s one think I learned during the end of the world,” Crowley says, voice low, as if speaking this too loud might break whatever it is that they have. “It’s that I’m… better when I’m not alone.” The _when I’m with you_ going unsaid.


End file.
